


Dream Walker

by ajsmellslikebooks



Category: TAZ - Fandom, TAZ Amnesty - Fandom, The Adventure Zone Amnesty, the adventure zone
Genre: F/F, M/M, kinda like a beach episode, no beach just angst, outside of canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:40:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26207326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajsmellslikebooks/pseuds/ajsmellslikebooks
Summary: It’s a quiet mid-autumn in Kepler, West Virginia. Or it was until an abomination came a month earlier than expected and tossed everything into disarray. How do you fight a monster that you can’t see? What threw the archway’s cycle out of whack in the first place? How much coffee is *too much* coffee?
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	1. Wind and Chimes (Intro)

**Author's Note:**

> \- I’ve uploaded these first few chapters before (1/27/20), took them down and fixed them up, and now they’re back again (8/31/20).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something is afoot at the Kepler Public Library after closing hours...

A student sits in the reading nook at the Kepler Public Library. It’s unreasonably late in the evening; the is lobby all but deserted save for her things strewn across the single computer desk, illuminated by an LED overhead lamp. The library is well past closing, there’s the ever gentle whistle of a brewing storm brushing against the building’s ancient windows and the rhythmic rustle of the dying leaves that accompany it. Otherwise, still, thick, silence. She pushes her glasses back up the bridge of her nose and shoves on through her study. Several dusty volumes lay cracked open at her feet like vanquished foes. An exasperated sigh bursts through the quiet. She selects the next book from her bag, pulls her blanket further over her shoulders, and begins the next chapter.  
A heavy wind heaves against the library, and the building settles indignantly, floorboards creaking in irritation. The wind slows and a steady noise takes its place in, breaking the silence. A consistent clink like marbles on glass. The student pays no mind, wrapped in her book and her thoughts. She can feel herself drifting off as the clock on the wall reaches three, she starts to mark her page and, submitting, decides to pack up for the night.  
And then she’s on the small second level of the library, a loft for kids books and toys away from the lower main library floor, slumped against the safety railing. She jumps to her feet, still half asleep, and gains her balance. She feels her feet squish down into the carpet, fresh mud clinging to the bottom of her boots. She glances to the nook on the opposite side of the library, where she was not even moments ago. The clock reads four.  
This time she hears the clinking noise and whirls around just in time to see a shadow slip behind the bookshelves out of sight. She bolts down the spiral stairs and through the doors, leaving her things behind. She stumbles groggily down the short flight of stairs outside and cuts through the library’s flower bed, offhandedly noticing a second and third pair of boot tracks that she didn’t remember leaving there. One set going towards the library, the other leaving. She slowed her pace and checked to see she wasn’t being followed. They were from her boots, alright, but how?


	2. Coffee and Heterochromia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aubrey breaks the ice. Pigeon has some beans to spill. Duck earns a distaste for shish kebabs.

Aubrey awoke to the smell of bacon and eggs drifting from the kitchen downstairs. She sat up slowly and felt Dr. Bonkers’ whiskers tickle her arm. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and slipped her feet into her bunny slippers. On her way to the door she caught a look out the window and made a note that it had rained overnight and to not wear her nice boots today. The ratty ones instead.  
Over the balcony, the lobby was starting to accumulate its first occupants of the day, a few of the older Sylphs reading books or nursing mugs of coffee and tea. She made a quick wave to those that noticed her come down the stairs on her way to the kitchen. Of course Barclay was at the stove, apron and all, but Mama was sat up on the counter next to him with her own cup of coffee, swinging her feet and chatting with him. They stopped when she set foot in the room.  
“Hey, Aubrey. How’d you sleep?” Mama said in her, well, motherly, voice as she hopped off the ledge and started assembling a plate for her.  
It took Aubrey a solid second to figure out what they were discussing before she interrupted, and then remembered the previous night she’d informed Mama about her stunt in Sylvain, the sunglasses, and the life for a life trade the heart of Sylvain required. By the look on Barclay’s face this fact wasn’t sitting too well with him, though Aubrey trusted him to not tell the other lodge residents, she still felt guilty about the whole situation. She didn’t want any of the Sylphs to get the impression that she felt her life was worth more than theirs. Or even that she was tied to the attack on Sylvain in any way, cause or solution. The last thing she wanted was to get grouped into the ‘greedy human’ category.  
“...Uh, good. I slept good.” She was most likely a little late in her response, Mama didn’t react if so. She set Dr. Bonkers onto the tile floor and took a seat at the counter. She sipped at her coffee, food now sounding somewhat less appealing. “Any news in the gate department?” she mumbled at her cup.  
“Naw, radio silence,” Mama confirmed. Mama knew just about everything about her at this point; that she liked her coffee black, her tea with cinnamon, and definitely when she was uncomfortable, not that Aubrey did a brilliant job hiding it in the first place. Mama simply arched an eyebrow and glanced beckoningly at Barclay.  
“...Ay, Bark,” Aubrey sighed. Barclay tilted his head to eye Mama before setting his spatula down and turning to face them both.  
“Look, I’m gonna put it out there right now, I’m not mad at you, Aubrey, Mama ain’t either, though she’s more stubborn to admit,” Aubrey felt a knot loosen in her chest she didn’t know was there. “It’s just that getting news from Sylvain always sucks, especially since, y’know, most of it is sucky news. It ain’t got nothing with you, so don’t be down on yourself.” Barclay huffed and returned to flipping sausages and eggs.  
Mama scooped up Dr. Bonkers and ruffled his fur. “If Janelle feels that the best course of action is to keep this thing under wraps, then that’s what we’ll do,” she continued for Barclay. “So next time Ned and Duck decide to show up, just tell them you touched the crystal and leave out the rest. Anyone here for that matter, we don’t want this spreading around Amnesty.” Aubrey nodded and shoveled some eggs in her mouth so she wouldn’t be expected to give a verbal response.  
She finished her breakfast and dismissed herself from the kitchen, Dr. Bonkers at her heels attempting to catch her bunny slippers’ bouncing ears. Dani skipped up to her and pecked her cheek, her smile wrinkling her green eyes. “Word around is that we’re half-twining now,” she beamed.  
“Oh, yeah I’m totally copping your style,” Aubrey felt a twinge of guilt for not telling her the truth either. Maybe she would eventually. Another time, she thought. Dani was wearing her disguise right now, Aubrey noted, which was strange considering she always left it off in the mornings while Stern was in his room.  
“Oh, there’s a girl at the door looking for Duck, it sounds important,” Dani said, eyeing her confusion.  
Sure enough there was a young woman standing awkwardly in the main entrance of the lodge, illuminated by the early morning sun behind her. She had short red hair stuffed under a toboggan and black, thick framed glasses. She seemed cautious to enter the lobby, like she’d be invading on the residents’ territory. Aubrey strided up to her, “You’re looking for Duck, right? He’s not here right now but I think he was planning on coming in sometime ‘round noon. You’re welcome to hang out before then, or…” the woman slowly shook her head, “No. Call him up and tell him he needs to get his ass here, now. Tell him he still owes Pigeon another favor.”

* * *

Duck was peering up through the canopy of the Monongahela forest into the ink of night, which was interrupted by a spark, then another, and a few more, flitting into the dark. He heard a crackle, the unmistakable crunch of fire. The wind picked up around him and his eyes adjusted to see an unconscious Aubrey lying face down a couple feet away from him on the forest floor. There was an erratic pattern of ash and charred earth originating from where she lay, spreading out a few yards in either direction. On the outskirts of the clearing where they sat, small flames began to flick their way into the bushes and lap at the trunks of trees. He tried to sit up, felt a sharp, cool pain press against his stomach and looked down to see Beacon jutting out of his abdomen.  
Duck woke up to his cell buzzing. “Yo… what’s up?” he mumbled, feeling like he could still hear the whisper of embers and whistle of wind.  
“Hey, Duck,” it was Aubrey, “D’ya think you can head down to the lodge? I’m here with this... Pigeon? She needs a favor? She says she knows you and she seems pretty spooked ‘bout something, but she’s refusing to tell anyone ‘bout nothing ‘cept you,” Aubrey finished.  
“Uh, sure. I’ll, uh, head down right now,” Duck drawled. As soon as the words left his mouth, Aubrey said okay and hung up. So much energy in that girl.  
Duck sat on the edge of his bed looking at clouds roll past. This was the first time since Minerva had gone (not exactly) MIA that he’d had a vision. Not that they had ever stopped but he’d expected them to go kaput along with his powers.  
“Duck. It would appear that your beauty rest was a _provocative_ one,” Beacon purred from under his bed as he flicked through missed calls from Pigeon.  
He jumped, the image of his own body impaled on the forest floor still in his head. “Not the right time for that, man,” Duck groaned as he slapped his phone on the nightstand and grabbed a pair of slacks off his bedroom floor. He walked into the kitchen, pulling on a shirt as his cat coiled around his legs. He bent over and held her up by her underarms. She was a calico cat that had wandered into his apartment via the fire escape and he had just let her stay here out of mutual respect. He’d never named her because she technically wasn’t his. Sure, he fed her, but they were more like acquaintances rather than owner and possession.  
He scooped some canned food into her dish and set her on the counter. She almost never meowed even when she was hungry, she politely nodded her head at Duck instead and lapped at her bowl like a regal duchess sipping her tea. Duck slipped his boots on and slid out the front door, leaving his hat and helmet behind. He could drive in his own work truck but he wasn’t really allowed to use it for personal use. Fuck the skateboard. He’d hop a ride with Leo, he wanted to talk to him anyway. He strode across the hall to Leo’s apartment and rapped on the door.  
Leo was pretty good looking for a guy his age, he had black hair peppered with white flecks and he definitely had Italian roots of some sort, but what New Yorker didn’t? “Hey, Duck, mornin’,” he said, accent thick as ever, as he cracked the door open and retreated back into his apartment. Duck let himself in, as he had plenty before. Leo’s apartment was cozy, knitted blankets lining the couch and framed newspapers from acts of heroism he’d done while he lived in the city. His chosen sword was also mounted on the wall, Duck made note every time he saw it how lucky Leo was that his blade wasn’t sentient nor did it have an attitude. “D’ya think I can catch a ride with you? I need to get over to Amnesty Lodge.”  
“Yeah, yeah. I’m heading that way to pick up some groceries from the other side of town,” he said, relocating books that were piled on the couch. “I was up almost all night,” Leo grumbled as he made his way into the kitchen. “Damn stingy insurance companies won’t leave me and my store alone. And get this, I got a cold, can you believe it? I haven’t had a cough since I was 13. Coffee?”  
Duck sat on the couch and Leo’s old Boston terrier, Hudson, trodded up to him. “No thanks, tryin’ to cut back a smidge on caffeine.”  
“You havin’ trouble sleeping too?”  
“Yeah, for different reasons… can I talk to you for a sec?”  
Leo stepped into the living room, a puzzled frown on his face. “You don’t–,”  
“Yeah, I had a vision last night. You don’t think that she…”  
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Uh, I have no clue to how any of this works to be honest. Are you sure?”  
“Pretty sure, it was pretty damn vivid if that’s what you mean,” Duck scratched behind Hudson’s ears.  
“You’re not back to Superman status or anything though, right? ‘Cause that just be unfair.” Duck shook his head. “Well, what was it?” He blew some dust off his blade. “The vision, I mean,” Leo sat on the coffee table.  
“Just… uh.. monster related… stuff.”  
“You’re trousers are smoking, Duck,” he deadpanned. “Hey, as long as it’s got nothing to do with ‘Nerva or the Earth’s imminent destruction, I guess you can keep it to yourself.” He ducked in the kitchen and grabbed his traveler and dug his car keys out of his pockets. “Let’s bounce, then.”


	3. Plans and Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Pine Guard is assembled about a month too soon.

Leo pulled up outside Amnesty and let Duck hop out. He thanked him and Leo pulled off back out of the Amnesty lot and onto the main road. Duck walked up the stairs of the lodge’s porch. Inside was as warm and cozy as always, the lodge’s residents had grown on him the past couple months, some nodded and bade him good morning. He walked into the kitchen to find Pigeon, Mama, Barclay, Ned, and Aubrey scattered throughout, Pigeon nursing a cup of tea at the counter next to Aubrey and Ned was rummaging through cabinets mumbling under his breath how there was nothing unhealthy to eat.  
Pigeon looked up as he entered the room. “Took you long enough, Duck,” she said, setting her cup down.  
“That might’ve been on account that some people sleep at five in the morning, Pidge,” he shot back, only half mad. “What’s all this about anyway?”  
“Well, I came here after your station was empty. Uh, is there anywhere we can chat that isn’t so… public?” Her eyes looked tired and stressed.  
“Sure, but whatever you have to say the others can be there too.” She shot him a look as if to say _Are you sure?_ Duck nodded. “Trust us, Pidge.”  
So they headed down to the basement with the infirmary to avoid upsetting the Sylphs or alerting Agent Stern. Duck wasn’t too worried about Thacker, he was real quiet these days.  
Once everyone was situated in chairs and beanbags, Duck sighed, “Alright, Pidge, shoot.”  
Aubrey held up a hand, “Hold on, I’m still unclear on how y’all know each other. And what’s with the nicknames?”  
Pidgeon looked annoyed. “We’ve known each other since grade school, and none of your business. Can I start now?” Aubrey shut up. “Now Duck might be the only one of y’all that’ll believe me, but some weird shit went down last night.”  
“Try me,” Ned said, visibly intrigued.  
“Now I might not have all the details because I wasn’t there when it went down, it happened to my lil’ sister down at the library. The only reason she ain’t where I’m sittin’ is ‘cause she refuses to leave the house.” She took a breath. “So she was up late studying, right? She was super tired but she’s not known for driftin’ off or nothing. Hell, she’s a hardcore insomniac. Anyway, she started packin’ up her stuff and then she woke up an hour later, her boots all wet and on the other side of the library. But get this, she said she saw some sort of shadowy thing after she came-to, I feel like she’s not telling me everything though ‘cause she’s awfully spooked, never seen her this scared of anything.” Pidge paused, fidgeting with her thumbs. “I don’t know what y’all’s thing is and to be honest I don’t really want to know. I just know that I want whatever this thing is outta Kepler as soon as possible.” She looked to Duck. “For old time’s sake okay? You gotta believe me. Lord knows what shit we’ve gotten each other through, and…” her voice drifted off.  
“No, I-I think you made the right decision tellin’ me ‘bout it. We’ll look into it, ’kay?” Duck rested his hand on her shoulder. He cleared his throat in Barclay’s direction, “D’ya think you can take her to refill her tea?” Barclay paused then nodded, recognizing that Duck wanted her out of the room.  
After they left, Mama sighed. “Is it an abomination? Already? The last one was only a week ago.”  
“You’ve been doing this a whole lot longer than we have, Mama. Any reason at all the cycle would be gettin’ this messed up?” Aubrey asked.  
“No, none whatsoever.”  
Ned spoke up for the first time since they’d came down, “So what’s the game plan? Visit the library? I don’t think the thing woulda stuck around, right?”  
Duck agreed with Ned for once. “Yeah, maybe we could–,” Duck suddenly stopped mid-sentence as a head splitting force shot through his skull.  
Ned jumped to his feet, “What the hell?!”  
Duck lost his balance and hit the floor like a bag of bricks. In a second he came-to again.  
“Fuck’s sake, Duck. You alright?” Aubrey’s hands ignited, “Was that the bom-bom? Is it here?”  
He slowly propped himself against the wall. “N-no… That was Indrid,” Duck pressed a hand to his temple, eyes bewildered. “W-we gotta go.”  
Mama put a hand on his chest to stop him from standing. “Woah, there. Slow down, Duck. Are you sure?”  
Duck nodded urgently, still trying to refocus his eyes, “Please. Mama. We gotta go _now_.”


	4. Echoed and Emptied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mothman Origins: the Squeakuel

All five of them were packed into the lodge van. Ned was at the wheel, Mama sat shotgun and Aubrey was squished in the back between Duck and Barclay. Every now and then Mama would say something like “Wait, turn up here,” otherwise the car was silent. Duck felt naked heading into this without Beacon, wishing he’d grabbed him on his way out this morning.  
Mama was the first to break the ice. “Okay, Duck. What happened?”  
“I dunno, I just saw Indrid all curled up in his trailer, holding his head in his hands and…” Duck picked at the black polish on his fingernails. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever told Ned or Aubrey about his visions or Minerva, but besides, he didn’t think it was a vision, he’d only had those while he was asleep and never during the day. Duck told Indrid about his visions when he went to visit him, besides Leo, Duck felt that he was the only one that could understand what he went through. Shit, what if something really bad happened to him? Duck would never forgive himself for letting Indrid live by himself in the middle of the woods all this time.  
The van stopped, yanking Duck out of his thoughts. He jumped out and made a quick mental survey of the exterior of the Winnebago. The windows were blacked out as always and the door shut tight. Duck dashed up to it. He peeked through the blinds and couldn’t see shit. He tried the handle. Locked. He banged on the door. “Cold! Open up, man!”  
“Allow me,” Ned crouched below the doorknob and whipped out a lockpick.  
A waft of warm, stale air and nutmeg slapped the five in the face as the door swung open. As Duck’s eyes adjusted to the lack of light he saw a carton of eggnog knocked on its side and sketchbook paper scattered across the carpet of the Winnebago. The small table that Indrid ate at was upturned along with the many space heaters that kept his living space like a sauna, and still were despite being tossed about. But no Indrid.  
“What happened here?” Ned gasped.  
“Where’d Cold go?” Barclay added.  
Duck stepped forward and felt a crunch beneath his boot. Indrid’s glasses. He saw a flick of movement from behind the table. “Indrid?” A hulking figure emerged, two impossibly wide, red eyes stared blankly at the group huddled in the doorway.  
“What is he…?” Barclay grunted.  
Duck held his hand up, “Wait, listen.” Indrid was emitting slow, deep breaths, his bulking form rising and falling in pace. “He’s snoring.”  
Duck started to walk toward him when Aubrey grabbed him by the shoulder. “The bom-bom’s here,” she said, her eyes closed. Probably doing her weird third eye shit again.  
“What? Where?”  
“I can’t tell. It’s, like, right on top of Indrid.”  
Duck furrowed his brow. “What do we do?”  
“Here’s the real question, does he still know what we’re gonna do next?” Ned bent down and picked up a ball of paper. He hurled it at Indrid, who sidestepped it the second it left his hand.  
Indrid’s wings shook themselves out. “What we’re gonna do next,” he repeated, his voice hollow and forced.  
Ned scratched the back of his neck, “This is getting creepy, how do we snap him outta it before he–,”  
“Does something worse,” Indrid said before he could finish.  
“What he said,” Ned and Indrid said simultaneously.  
Aubrey opened her eyes again, “I mean, I don’t wanna fight him–,”  
“He’s our friend.” Indrid stepped around the table, rattling the entire Winnebago.  
Duck flipped a heater off, “If we could get him outside, the cold might make him–,”  
“Wake up.” His antennae brushed against the ceiling, despite him already bending over, as he took another step forward. “Wake up,” he said again. Then he crouched in the middle of the RV, poking at a carton with his talons. He made a guttural coo at the puddle of nog that had soaked into the carpet.  
Duck reached into the fridge and found a mostly full carton and retrieved it. “Hey, Indrid.”  
The mothman looked up, his gaping eyes void of emotion. “Indrid. Indrid,” he echoed.  
“You, uh, want some?”  
“Want some.” He inched forward.  
“Oh, okay, come on then,” Duck sloshed the liquid around as he took a step backward towards the door. “God, this is weird.”  
Indrid purred curiously and rustled his wings, blowing some more drawings off the wall.  
“I don’t think he’ll move,” Aubrey commented.  
“He’ll have to if he wants some,” Duck said, mostly to Indrid.  
“Want some. Want some. _Want_ some.” Indrid bared his pointy, black teeth, a black tongue writhing against the roof of his mouth, which Duck didn’t even know his Sylvan form had.  
He backed out through the threshold of the RV, the others followed suit. Indrid cooed from inside. “Come on, man, I don’t got all day.”  
Indrid shook his wings and clicked his teeth.  
“Alright,” Duck began to twist the lid to pour out its contents onto the ground. He didn’t react. “Geez, I guess he’s really–,”  
“Out of it,” he echoed, it sounded like the words were being pulled out of him. This was not Indrid.  
Duck tossed the carton into a trash bin nearby. “Ideas?”  
“I could try to just drop the temperature in the trailer,” Aubrey shrugged.  
Inside, Indrid cocked his head towards Aubrey.  
“I don’t think he–,”  
“Likes that,” the mothman squinted at them.  
“We’re running out of options here, though,” Ned said. “It’s not like I can just blast him with the Narf gun or something, he’s the Mothman!”  
“Mothman, mothman, mothman,” he muttered quietly, picking at the papers on the floor with his talons.  
Aubrey flicked her wrist in the direction of the Winnebago, Indrid grunted at the gesture.  
“I didn’t work,” Aubrey said. “There’s something blocking magic out of it.”  
Then Indrid leaped through the door and onto Aubrey, pinning her to the ground. He chattered at her, digging his talons into her shoulders. Suddenly a shudder ran through him, he let out a garbled shriek and shot up into the air, carrying Aubrey with him. He tossed her to the ground and flew lopsidedly into the woods.  
“Shit, you alright?” Duck said, rushing to her side.  
“I’m fine,” Aubrey wheezed, the air knocked out of her. Barclay helped her up and the five dashed into the woods after the mothman. They searched for some sign of him, disturbed leaves, low branches that had been snapped off, but nothing seemed out of place. They tried calling out his name, hoping that he’d repeat it back to them at least, but the only sound was the wind and their own footsteps.  
“Shit, man. Fuck.” Duck sighed, sitting down on a fallen tree. The sky had started getting darker and in an hour or so it’d be impossible to find him. He found his breath getting shallow and he forced himself to count his breathing, he was not having a panic attack in the middle of the woods. He _had_ to find him, he had to stay calm. For Indrid he could do that.  
“Guys!” Ned boomed.  
Duck was there in the blink of an eye, even without his powers. Indrid was curled up in a ball, his wings tucked in tight against his chest. His antennae were flattened against his head like a cat’s ears, he was shivering violently, and his eyes were squeezed shut. Duck pushed him onto his back and thought back to his medical training, and tried looking for a pulse, not that Sylvan anatomy was anything in the ballpark of what was covered in his ranger training. Indrid’s talons were protruding from the crook of his wings, so checking a for a wrist was not an option. His neck was short and thick like an owl’s but Duck checked for a pulse there anyway and couldn’t find anything.  
He pressed his ear against Indrid’s chest, not the most efficient way but this was far from textbook first aid. Duck counted and watched his wristwatch. 47 beats per minute, which meant bradycardia in humans. Barclay and the others were gathered behind him. “What’s a normal heart rate for y’all?” he asked to Barclay.  
“110, 120,” he answered quietly.  
Fuck, that made things worse. “We gotta get to the van and into the heat or his heart’s gonna slow to a stop. Can you help me with him?” he said to Barclay.  
It was a long trip that seemed to drag on forever, they tried to keep his feet elevated above his heart on the way creating an impractical mode of transportation. At long last, they reached the van. Ned had already ran ahead to get the engine running and warmed up. Duck got in the back of the van with Indrid and Barclay, Mama and Aubrey got in the row in front of them and Ned slammed the gas. Barclay kept Indrid’s feet up and Duck kept checking his heart rate, which was gradually rising as the car heated up, his shivering remained the same. Duck wished he knew how to check him for frostbite, it seemed that his body had trouble in lower temperatures, considering the ungodly amount of heaters he kept around.  
Aubrey texted Dani to keep an eye on Stern’s room. The rest of the ride was thankfully uneventful, no one was in the mood to talk and they miraculously didn’t get pulled over considering how fast Ned was driving. But in the quiet, Duck’s mind swam with worry, he hadn’t realized how much Indrid mattered to him until, well, he was literally on the brink of death. His fingers threaded Indrid’s feathery antennae between them with a mind of their own.  
Finally they pulled up into the lodge’s lot, they decided to carry Indrid down into the basement in case Stern went poking around the lodge, and in case the abomination was still clinging to him some how. But if near heart failure didn’t stop it, he didn’t know what could.  
They set Indrid up with an electric blanket underneath four more blankets. He’d stopped shivering and his heartbeat sounded stronger than it had, though it was still too sluggish for Duck’s liking. After Aubrey got her cuts fixed up, she, Mama, and Ned headed up into the lodge for the night but Barclay insisted on staying until Indrid woke up.  
Barclay fell asleep on the busted up couch they kept next to the Playstation, but Duck stayed awake in a rolling chair that he’d pulled up next to the medical cot Indrid was draped across. He couldn’t fall asleep, a combination of not wanting another vision and wanting to wait for Indrid. Around one in the morning, Indrid started stirring, his talons twitching every now and then.  
“Hey, man,” Duck breathed.  
His red eyes cracked open and he sat up with a start, wincing at the motion. He looked around, “What happened?”  
“Well, how much do you remember?” Duck said softly.  
He noticed he wasn’t wearing his glasses and pulled up the covers some. His antennae flattened back some in an instinctive sort of embarrassment. “I was sketching and I-I saw the abomination, well not _saw_ but… you know what I mean. I knew it was heading my way and I got up to call one of you guys and I got, like, real drowsy all of a sudden. So I tried reaching one of you telepathically because I couldn’t get to the phone. Sorry about that.”  
Duck shook his head, “Don’t apologize. I didn’t know you could—,”  
“I normally don’t– sorry– because it’s an… unpleasant experience, on both ends. Well, and then…” his bug-eyes grew wide. “That’s it,” he finished quietly.  
“Yeah, w-we, uh, don’t really know what the abomination does yet, just that it makes you sleep and kinda, like, takes ya over.”  
He looked at the clock on the wall across the room. “Wait, but last I remember it was ten in the morning.” He looked at his talons that still had Aubrey’s dry blood on them. “What did I _do_?” he asked emptily.


	5. Marshmallows and Minutiae

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In today’s episode on “Get to Know Your Cryptid (LLC)” we have a sit-down with everyone’s favorite heartthrob, Mothman!

It was even later in the evening, Barclay had long since retired upstairs and neither Indrid nor Duck could sleep. Duck carefully explained the day’s events and made himself a coffee while Indrid scrubbed at his talons in the sink. Once in awhile Indrid would nod slightly before Duck could finish a sentence, which Duck eventually learned that meant that Indrid was restraining himself from talking over him. He couldn’t imagine what it’d be like knowing what everyone would say next all the time, it’d probably drive him nuts. After Duck finished, he paused to let him process everything he’d said, it was a lot to take in.  
Not being in control of your own actions was one of the worst things that could happen to a person, the way Duck saw it. A while back his dad got real drunk, he drank a lot after work but sometimes he’d be too lazy or in a rush to get someone to drive him home. Surprise, he’d lost control of the car and swerved off the road. Duck remembered how hard it had hit him, he thought that his old man was too good a driver, too smart to do something that stupid. Every night that Minerva would pop in, Duck would spit curses at her like a madman, how could she not have given him a vision and warned him ahead of time? Thinking of it now, that was the last straw that made Duck give up Beacon.  
Indrid flicked the mini-kitchen faucet off, pulling Duck out of his thoughts. He sighed, “Duck. You don’t think I’m a monster, do you?” He didn’t sound accusatory, just exhausted.  
He was taken aback, “What? Never, man. You’re one of the most chill dudes I know, we all know that that wasn’t really you that did all that shit. Don’t stress it. And if it makes you feel better, I always thought Mothman was one of the cooler cryptids out there, personally. And then I got to know the guy? Are you kidding?”  
His shoulders relaxed some, but his antennae were still smooshed back against his head. “Your vision earlier? I-I panicked and I knew it was coming but I shouldn’t have, and–,” his voice broke like we was about to cry.  
“I’m not mad about that, I mean if you hadn’t let me know you were in trouble, we would’ve been none the wiser and you’d’ve probably frozen to death out there. Hell, if it was a degree or two colder out, we wouldn’t be talking right now. You did the right thing.”  
Indrid nodded. “Thanks,” he sniffed. They stood there awkwardly for a moment. “Do you have something I can enchant? I take it my glasses got broken somehow.”  
“Uh…” Duck looked down at his person, no accessories or anything. The basement was pretty barren, some beanbags, the couch, the med cots and kitchen. Duck pulled open the kitchen’s cabinets, a jar of peanut butter, a bag of marshmallows, and a box of crackerjacks. “Oh, wait a second.” He cracked open the box and emptied it into a bowl and at the bottom of the box was a plain metallic ring. “Boom. Not the highest quality but if you want we could go get it engraved someplace.”  
“Ha-ha,” he said sarcastically, “you guys sure do love a good reference around here, huh? Did you save my glasses frame?” Duck nodded and produced the metal frame from his pocket, it still had some glass pieces hanging off of it. Indrid set them down on the kitchen counter and flicked his talons over the glasses. A strange red light popped out of them, Indrid pinched it between his claws and repositioned it onto the ring. “Saves me a lot of time and effort, you don’t know how awkward it is having to get a bunch of new photo IDs for everything because you changed your eye color or something on accident.” He took the ring, a t-shirt and a pair of sweats that they found in a closet, and slipped into the bathroom.  
When he re-emerged he was quite literally a new person, his hidden form’s white hair was neatly slicked back, unlike its normal greasy, disheveledness, save for two strands that stuck up in the back, resembling his antennae. His skin was slightly paler than usual, probably having to do with him nearly dying a few hours earlier. But most striking of all was that without his tinted glasses, Duck could see his reddish-hazel eyes that had a spattering of white freckles dancing around them.  
Eventually they drifted to the couch and clicked on the PlayStation and popped in an outdated game of FIFA. Indrid quickly grew bored, as he knew not only Duck’s next move and the CPUs’ every move, but the outcome of each match down to the point. Duck grabbed the bag of marshmallows and stuck in Tony Hawk Pro Skater. The game layout was different and single player, without computer players either, so it’d probably be more challenging for him. Duck was far better than Indrid at this game anyway, he’d basically been playing it since he was ten.  
Duck wanted so badly to tell Indrid about his vision about Aubrey, but he wasn’t sure how’d he react. Instead, he asked, “So, how come you live all the way out there- in the woods?” Duck cursed as his character stumbled and ended the combo he’d built up.  
Indrid paused the game with Duck’s remote. He sighed, “Well… me and Mama don’t exactly have the best relationship.” Duck arched a brow. “Back when I first left Sylvain and I was young and completely irresponsible, I did some dumb shit that she won’t forget about.” Duck gave him a _say more right now_ face. Indrid mentally weighed his options. “Okay,” he popped some marshmallows into his mouth. “When I came over from Sylvain I was about 120. I was scared out of my wits. Sylphs tend to do a good job talking down Earth and when I was sent over, I was sure it was a death sentence. It was winter and I just sat outside the gate, bawling my eyes out, my fur was just soaking in the snow like a sponge.”  
Duck picked at his nails, “Hey, Indrid, can I ask why you were sent here, to this side of the gate? I know once y’all leave you can’t go back…”  
“You want to know what I got in trouble for? Well, the head Sylphs of the arcane don’t like sharing their more powerful spells with the public. They don’t want everyone flinging death magic at one another, which is understandable. I was a young professor of the arcane, believe it or not. I was always fascinated with divining the future, long story short, I stole a book, cast some spells, and well…”  
“Your foresight.”  
“Yeah. When they found their book was missing and I had it they got pretty mad, I just didn’t think they’d actually do anything like…” he trailed off and popped some marshmallows into his mouth. “Mama thought that I was reckless for getting tossed over here, and when I learned about her whole Pine Guard operation we argued over that too. I always thought that there was some way to rescue the abominations that came over, she wouldn’t listen to any of my ideas, we just butt heads a lot.”  
Indrid leaned toward Duck and unpaused the game. “It’s late, we shouldn’t be getting into this, let’s just chill for a little bit.” He tucked his legs under himself and rested his head on Duck’s shoulder, he made his character do a flip off a building. Duck’s heart swam up into his throat, he was surprised how _complete_ he felt sitting here next to Indrid and a bag of processed sugar, playing this dumb game that was outdated by twenty years.  
“I’m so gonna kick your ass at this weird, unnecessary sport,” Indrid smirked.  
Duck slipped his hand into his, “Well, get on with it, then,” he said, not bothering to look away from Indrid and at the TV.


	6. Fang and Flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What kind of Amnesty fic doesn’t have any Vampfire in it...
> 
> Aubrey and Dani have some time to catch up.

Aubrey was lying on her stomach in her bed, she had earbuds in as she flicked through a book Janelle had lended out to her with one hand, petting her rabbit with the other. The current page was outlining the essential elements of meditation, but Aubrey wasn’t really reading it. Her mind wandered and she found herself thinking about the new bom-bom. She hadn’t the slightest clue how they were to go about stopping it, hopefully Barclay could find some information on Thacker’s laptop in the morning. She snapped the book shut for the night and scooped up Dr. Harris into her lap as the next song began in her ear. _With the roar of the fire my heart rose to its feet,_ there was a rhythmical knock at the door. _Like the ashes of ashes I saw rise in the heat._ “Uh… come in,” she called, sitting up and popping out an earbud.  
It was Dani, of course. She bounded in, nudging the door shut behind her and hopping onto the bed. Her ring was off and her bright orange eyes cast a faint glow in the dark of the room. “So, where’ve you been all day?”  
“Uh, we had to go help Indrid out.” Aubrey said as she paused her music. She didn’t want to freak Dani out or any of the lodgers, but she didn’t want to keep adding onto the secrets she had been racking up. “Yeah, so, we think there’s something going around town. We have no clue what it could be yet, but I don’t think it’s a bom-bom, it’s way too early. Maybe it’s from the Quell? I don’t know the whole thing just isn’t making sense.”  
Dani fluffed Dr. Bonkers’ fur, “Hmm… is Indrid alright though?”  
“Yeah, we got there in the nick of time, but…”  
She tilted her head and her blonde hair fell in front of her face.  
“It’s just– I tried casting some magic, on the trailer, and nothing happened, and–,”  
“Well, you know Indrid has all sorts of wards and stuff on his things, he’s quite handy in that sort of thing.”  
“It’s just– Dani, do you know some stuff about magic?”  
“Yeah, a decent amount, I could never get a grip on it, sometimes you just gotta be born with it. I know some stuff though, I took minor enchantments as a course in school back in Sylvain.”  
“I don’t know how similar my magic is to y’all’s, I don’t even know where it comes from, but lately it’s just been… unpredictable? I mean it’s always kinda been like that but…”  
Dani smiled faintly, her sharp teeth glistened in the soft lamp light. “All magic is fueled differently, Indrid’s feeds on his intellect, he casts out of practice and experience. Yours is emotional, Aubrey, some of the strongest there is.”  
“That’s what scares me,” Aubrey grabbed Dani’s hand, “I feel like it’s out of my control, like I’m this bomb that could go off at anytime, I–,”  
Dani squeezed her hand back, “You’re worrying too much, you just need practice is all, Aubs.”  
“But, I’ve hurt people, Dani, I-I– Duck and Leo’s store, and–,”  
“Duck’s fine, Aubrey, he wasn’t–,”  
“My mom, Dani,” Aubrey felt hot bile rising in her throat and swallowed hard.  
“Oh, _Aubrey_ …” Dani wrapped her arms around her and Aubrey finally felt all the stuff she was keeping bottled up spill out. She probably looked like a mess, she could feel her mascara start to run and she forced herself to calm down. When Dani finally unwound her embrace, she traced her finger near Aubrey’s left eye. “You’re eyelashes are blonde,” she noted.  
“Yeah, so’s some of my hair, ‘nd my eyebrow, ‘cause of my vitiligo, I-I dye it and the mascara helps,” she sputtered, still swiping at her eye.  
“I don’t think you need it,” Dani said, placing a kiss on her lower lip. As she did the candle sitting on the nightstand flickered to life and Aubrey let out a sharp laugh. “Thanks.”  
Dani stood and snuffed it out, “Of course. Hey, wanna go pop some corn and see what’s on? I think they’re playing reruns of that weird show from Huntington that you like, oh, and Netflix has that new magic trick series.”  
Aubrey perched Dr. Harris Bonkers on her shoulder, “Sounds great.”


	7. Bottle Caps and Bad Luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barclay levels with Ned. Duck has a mini session of coffee and contemplation at 4 AM.

Ned spent his night on the back porch of Amnesty Lodge, which overlooked Dani’s small box garden and a worn trail that lead through a few shrubs and into the hot springs, though he couldn’t see them from where he stood. There was a box, a wooden frame packed with soil that was neatly portioned by small wire fencing and small plastic labels. Some plants were nearly ready to pick including garlic, parsnips, snap peas, and a plot labeled ‘carrots’ that appeared to have already been picked clean, no doubtedly for Aubrey’s rabbit.  
He had no clue what to do in that department, the Aubrey department that is. I mean, how do you even tell someone about that? Hey, I’m pretty sure I’m the reason your own magic killed mother. What the fuck was he supposed to do?  
He collapsed in the porch’s rickety rocking chair with an exasperated sigh in the way only an old man can. He unzipped his puffer, slid out a pack of Camels from the coat’s inner pocket, and selected one from the package in a single smooth motion. He never lit them anymore, he quit that when he quit everything else from his old life. Now he just appreciated them, made them dance in a ritual of legerdemain across his fingertips.  
A moth flapped its wings against the porch light, startling Ned and making him send his cigarette into his lap. Just the thought of Indrid made his hair stand on end, the guy was nice enough but geez… He just felt bad vibes rolling off him. The back door slammed, making Ned jump again. A hairy silhouette was outlined by the lamplight. “Hey, Chewie,” Ned said nonchalantly, hoping Barclay hadn’t seen him get spooked.  
“Hey, yourself, old man,” he retorted, taking the rocking chair next to him.  
“Aren’t you like a couple hundred years old?”  
“You’re deflecting. Want a beer?” he asked, holding out one of the bottles he had brought out with him.  
“No, I’ll pass.”  
“Suit yourself,” he popped off a cap with his fingernail and sipped on the froth that was bubbling up through the neck. “What’s on your mind?” he asked without having to even look at Ned’s face.  
“Just some bad decisions. You ever choose to do something knowing that it’s not morally right to do, but it turns out way worse than you had imagined it could in the first place? One bad deed just gets so blown out of proportion in a way you couldn’t anticipate?”  
“Yeah, kinda,” he grunted, bending the bottle cap.  
“Huh,” Ned huffed and started flipping the cigarette between fingers. “Okay, here’s some throwback for you: ‘Would You Rather’… keep a secret knowing it wouldn’t hurt anyone but feel bad about it, or tell the person and feel better but have them get hurt.”  
“Oh, geez, uh… I guess the latter, I mean, honesty is pretty much always the better choice in any situation. I’m sure whoever it is will forgive you eventually, too,” he said, taking a swig from the bottle.  
Ned wasn’t so sure about that.

* * *

Duck flicked the TV off and stood up from the couch, stretching out his back. Indrid had fallen asleep not too long ago, but Duck was certain there was no way he was getting any sleep that night. He placed a spare blanket on top of Indrid who cooed slightly, making Duck smile. He took a seat in a rolling chair and tried booting up Thacker’s old laptop that had been left down here from their previous hunt. While he waited he skimmed through the old Pine Guard journal for anything that could help them. Nothing stuck out at Duck for the moment, but maybe once they knew more about whatever the thing was….  
Thacker, right, he’d probably need some new water soon. Duck set the notebook down and started down the hallway. He picked a water bottle from the package they kept outside his door, unscrewed the lid, cracked open the door, and set it on the floor. Thacker didn’t even pay mind to Duck, he just sat on his haunches and looked at the floor. He closed the door and returned to the main room where the computer’s desktop had finally pulled up. There were a ton of files on this thing, pictures, word documents, a handful of videos, and digital sketches Thacker made for the abominations he wasn’t able to get pictures of. They were quite meticulously rendered, in fact, Duck bet Indrid would appreciate them, what with all his sketching he did.  
Duck wasn’t really sure what he was looking for, he read up on a couple entries, jotted down some notes for later in his own mini-journal, and snapped the laptop shut. His watch read 4 AM. What a long fucking night this was. He wandered over to the counter and popped another probably expired cup into the ancient Keurig. After it painstakingly squeezed out a black coffee, Duck hopped up on the counter and nursed the mug with “I Survived my Trip to the Cryptonomica?” printed on it, quotation marks and all, and a monochromatic, decapitated jackalope head. He smirked to himself and sipped his coffee. He glanced over at Indrid.  
Should he have told him about his vision? He didn’t want to worry anyone, maybe it was just a nightmare and he was staying up all night for no good reason. But if it was a legit premonition, he didn’t know what that would entail for Aubrey… or himself for that matter. He looked down at his cup with dismay to see that his coffee was already gone, he slid off the counter to look to see if they had any more cups left when he heard Indrid start to stir in his sleep.  
The man sat up on the couch, and lifted a hand to readjust his glasses before noticing they weren’t there. “‘Mornin’, Duck,” he slurred.  
“‘S still night, man, lie back down,” he sighed as he set his mug back on the counter.  
Suddenly, Indrid froze, only for a second, his crimson eyes locked onto nothing in particular, and then he looked at Duck as a wave of panic washed over his face. “The reservoir. Next to the water park.”  
“W-what’s wrong, man, what’d you see?”  
He jumped up, out of breath even though he just woke up. “It’s Juno Divine. She’s dead.”


End file.
